Experience
by RandomRyu
Summary: Carl finds questionable things in one of the vacant houses of Alexandria while exploring with his friends. He doesn't understand really what they are, but when he shows them to Ron, a whole new world opens up to him, and he has a lot to learn.
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, Carl and his friends like to go into the vacant houses on the edges of Alexandria where not many people are. It's a huge community, but there isn't enough people to fill every single house, leaving many houses untouched to collect dust. Even so, most of them have been raided for supplies, leaving no food or medicine in the cabinets. But a bunch of things like clothes and family photo albums still remain, family in the photos most likely dead or turned and walking aimlessly outside the walls. Shoes remain near the front door like someone still lives there, coats hanging on a rack that'll never be used again. Fish and hamsters lay dead in their tanks, starved and left to rot, reduced to tiny skeletons after years of festering.

Enid has found many books in the empty houses, creating her own little collection in her own room, ranging from comics to actual novels. Though she does enjoy the comics a bit more, and shares them with the group. But she always expects to get them back, not wanting to lose them.

Mikey and Ron mostly search for video games. Just xbox 360 ones, though, because that's all they have. Only a few houses had games, and it was obviously ones where a preteen or teenage boy lived. They've found a bunch of Call of Duty and Modern Warfare discs, but sometimes they find gems like Assassin's Creed or Bioshock. When they do enjoy the multiplayer games to play together and face against each other, they do enjoy the story games and even if they're first person shooters most the time, they get invested in the story since there's nothing really to focus on in the end of the world. You either stare at a wall and over think until you go crazy, or you occupy yourself with games and books if you have access to them.

Carl has taken an array of things from the houses. He doesn't really look for anything in particular. He's found some cool comic posters that he took to put up in his own room, pairs of shoes that luckily fit his feet, and clothes. Winter and summer clothes, but mostly summer attire since the end of the world came in the summer, all winter clothes stocked away somewhere for the end of the year that never came.

They usually sneak off during the day, because Carl, Ron, and Mikey's parents want them to be home before the sun goes down. During the day, they still worry, but it's not as enforced. They tell their parents they're going to hang out inside the walls, and they trust them enough that they let them go about and do their thing. Since it's a big community, they could be anywhere. And anywhere is the empty houses on the far side of the walls.

Today they found a house they haven't been to before. A light blue, two story house with white accents. A dark blue car is still parked in the driveway, forgotten.

"Hopefully the front door is unlocked," Ron says as they go up the few stairs. He goes up to the door first, putting his hand on the handle and turning. Luckily, the knob turns all the way and the door opens with ease. "Nice!" Ron grins, and ushers the other three inside before going in himself and closing the door behind him.

The house is dark, all lights out. The only source of light is the sun streaming in the windows, only making the coating every surface and floating around more noticeable. Off to the right there's a living room with a fireplace. A big, tan couch sits in front of a television on a low pedestal, the screen pitch black. A coffee table sits in front of the couch, piled with magazines, books, and various remotes. A half filled mug of what seems to be coffee sits on the edge of the table, the liquid just pure mold. It looks like it smells horrible, but thankfully the smell doesn't travel that far. The kitchen is off to the left with the dining room behind it. Everything is either a shade of blue or brown. Obviously the people that lived here loved the color blue, but the mixture of colors and shades are relaxing and fit together nicely. Stairs are right in front of them, leading up to the second floor.

"It's nice," Mikey comments, walking into the living room. He runs his hands over the back of the couch before going over to the tv, searching through the drawers underneath, most likely searching fro games.

"Yeah, but dusty," Enid sniffs, bothered by all the dust in the air. She wiggles her nose to keep back a sneeze.

"Of course it's dusty, no one's been here for years." Ron goes into the kitchen, and Carl follows along. There's a bowl on the counter in the middle of the space filled with a brown, thick liquid that smells horrible. Carl thinks it could have one time been fruit, and he finds himself missing eating fruits like apples and pears. They're so hard to come by now that you're lucky if you find an apple tree. But there's a bunch of farms in Georgia, so there's the opportunity to find at least something.

"There's no food here," Carl says, obvious. "All cleaned out."

"Obviously," Ron grimaces as he looks in the fridge, instantly closing it again because of the rancid smell.

"I'm gonna go upstairs," Carl turns around, already walking away. "Wanna come?"

"I'll be up in a minute, gonna look through the living room with the other two." Ron takes one last look around the kitchen before stepping out of it.

"Alright." Carl nods and climbs the stairs, hand instinctively on his knife in its sheath just in case there was walkers. He stops at the top few steps and listens closely. He hears no movement except for the other three walking around and talking downstairs, yet he still keeps his hand near his weapon as he goes fully upstairs just in case. You never know what could happen.

There's a few rooms, mostly bedrooms, but there's one bathroom. He chooses to go into one of the bedrooms first, the door already wide open so all he has to do is step in.

It's mostly floral patterns, faded from years of being exposed to sunlight and use. There's a queen sized bed pressed against the back wall with a large dresser with a mirror facing the bed. There's various little things scattered on the surface, but it's an organized mess. There's no television, just a bed with the dresser, a small closet filled with clothes neatly hanging with shoes in the floor, and two bedside tables next to the queen. It's pretty plain. It seems to be the parents' room.

He doesn't expect anything exciting to be in the room, but he starts to search around anyway. He starts with the closet, seeing if any of the men's shoes are his size. They aren't, and he's kind of disappointed. All of the clothes are mostly polo shirts and dress pants with some dresses thrown in. But there's a decent sized backpack on the floor in the back end of the closet, so he takes that. There's a few notebooks in it, which he shakes out and leaves on the floor, slinging the backpack onto his back.

He looks through the dressers next, finding more clothes that don't fit him or he's not interested in. There's nothing interesting on the top of the dresser, mostly hair clips and old letters.

He moves on to the last things in the room, the two bedside tables. He starts on the left one, but finding nothing but a few small books, a crossword puzzle book, and a pair of reading glasses with one of those strings on it. So he moves onto the next one, and he expects nothing interesting until he opens up the drawer.

He squints, picking up something fuzzy. It's a puffy tail like a cat's, but there's something attached to it. It's rounded, tapered at the tip and wider at the base. He furrows his eyebrows and puts it aside on the bed, looking back into the drawer to see what else he'll find.

Next he pulls out a pair of cat ears on a headband, brown, just like the tail. The ears are also very fluffy, soft to the touch. He turns it over in his hand, just observing it like it's something entirely new. He's seen girls wear headbands with little wires with rhinestones on them shaped like cat ears and it's cute, but he's never really come across something like this, never thought about it. He puts it aside with the tail.

Then there's a collar. A straight up bright pink collar with a huge yellow bell on the front with white rhinestones spaced around it that sparkle every time he moves it. There's a chain that attaches to it, a leash, hanging down from it. He places it to the side also.

The last thing in the drawer is a bottle of lube, halfway filled. He doesn't really know exactly what it is, but he puts it to the side with the rest of the stuff he found anyway. He closes the drawer with his hip and turns to the treasure he found, just staring at the pile.

Carl doesn't know what to do with all of it, but part of him wants to take it.

He thinks it over, cheeks pink, before finally giving in. He slips the backpack off of his back and stuffs everything inside, zipping it up and putting it back on. He takes one last look of the room before leaving and moving on.

"Carl? Oh, there you are," Ron smiled. "Find anything cool?"

"Uh," Carl's face is still pink, and he hopes that Ron doesn't notice. "Just a backpack. I already have one but, you know, just in case something happens to it. Besides, this one's bigger." He turns around for a second to show Ron the backpack, but doesn't reveal what's inside. Part of him wants to understand what it really is, but he has a feeling that it isn't appropriate for the time being. Or ever.

"Cool," Ron says, wandering into what looks like what used to be a teenage girl's bedroom. "Wonder if there's anything cool in here. Looks like all girl's stuff."

Carl followed closely behind, feeling a little odd being alone with Ron.

He usually hangs out with all three of them at once. It's rare that he's one on one with someone, especially Ron. But when he's alone with the sandy haired boy, he feels his chest get tight and feels butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't really know what to think of it. He's had a crush before when he was younger, but it was such an innocent crush, and it never would have happened. It was Beth, when his group was at the prison. He liked the way she sang and the way she took care of Judith so carefully, so filled with love and kindness that is so hard to find in the wake of the apocalypse.

But now there's Ron. He didn't even know he liked guys, but here he was, trying not to act like an idiot around his close friend and one of the only other teens in the community.

Ron opens up the drawers on the fancy looking dresser, snickering when he opens up a drawer filled with bras and panties.

"Look," He giggles, holding up a pair of lacy underwear. It's a light pink color, almost see through, with a little white bow and white lace around the edges. He holds it up to his hips. "Think they'd fit me?" He jokes, raising an eyebrow at Carl.

"Heh, I think they're a little too small," Carl laughs. He has a passing image in his head of Ron wearing the panties, and he does his best to push that thought out before it can go any further.

"You're right," Ron puts the panties back in the drawer, closing it. "It's worth a try. Maybe Enid would like them. I think they'd fit her." He smirks, going through the other drawers and finding regular shirts and pants. Carl also gets an image of Enid wearing the panties, and he hates himself, because he finds both the image of Ron and Enid wearing the panties both pleasing.

"Yeah, maybe," Carl chuckles nervously, fidgeting with the straps of the backpack on his shoulders. "Did they find anything neat downstairs?"

"Enid found more books, of course." Ron shuffles through the closet, finding more clothes, shoes, and random items. The room is a bit of a mess, so he has to step over piles of clothes and notebooks. "Mikey tried to look for games, but there's nothing. Just a bunch of movies, but nothing interesting. Mostly romcoms."

"Boring," Carl makes a face, taking a few steps forwards, closer to Ron, so he can look through the closet.

"Totally," Ron scoffs. "They didn't even have any Marvel movies! I would kill to see Captain America or Iron man. I wonder how many more movies they would have made if...all this didn't happen."

"I wanna know what happened to his friend. What was his name?" Carl thought hard, but the name escaped him. It was on the tip of his tongue.

"Bucky," Ron told him, wandering over to the computer desk in the corner. He sits down on the chair, scanning the top shelves. "He fell off the train, right? I read a little bit of the comics, I think he becomes some sort of super soldier like Cap. Enid would probably know." He opens up a laptop that's on the desk, pressing the power button even if he knows it won't turn on, fiddling with the keys and typing out random words that don't show up on the black screen.

"Probably," Carl shrugs, watching Ron type aimlessly.

"Always thought Cap and Bucky were a _little_ gay for each other, honestly," Ron chuckles, closing the laptop and turning in the chair to face Carl, putting his elbow on the desk and resting his head on his hand, looking tired. He always looks tired, Carl notices; dark bags under his eyes.

"Really?" Carl raises an eyebrow. He's never really thought about it, but he kind of likes the idea.

"Yeah, don't you notice? They're so close."

"I mean…" Carl thinks for a moment. "Yeah, actually, I can see that." He laughs. He thinks about the two characters kissing, and finds it adorable.

"We should check out the other bedroom then go back downstairs." Ron gets up, heading towards the door. "Nothing in here I want to take."

"Nothing I want to take either." Carl takes a look at the dresser, kind of wanting to take the panties. But he doesn't go for it.

Both of them go into the last bedroom, which looks like a pre-teen boy's. It's plastered with posters of video games, a huge Minecraft poster being one of them. There's a medium sized tv with a big, bright green bean bag in front of it, which Carl goes over to and plops into. It's also a mess, clothes everywhere and some garbage and plates that weren't taken back down to the kitchen.

"This is so comfortable," Carl sighs, sinking into the bean bag. "I've always wanted one of these."

"Then take it," Ron says, crouching down to look under the tv by the xbox 360, a few games stuffed near it.

"I can't carry this across town."

"Why not?" Ron asks, picking up a case labeled _Mass Effect_. He puts it beside him, continuing to examine the cases.

"My dad will wonder where it came from. He doesn't know that we do this."

"My mom doesn't know we do this either. I mean, she found out about Mikey, Enid and I's little hang out spot in the attic that's now your house and she was a little upset, but it was so close by that she came to terms with it. It's inside the walls, so it's not like we're gonna run into any of those monsters. As far as I know, this whole place is cleaned out." He places another case on top of the one beside him. "I haven't seen one of those things inside the walls in a long time. I saw one _once_ , and it was pretty scary, but it was taken care of. Don't know how it got in, though."

Carl thinks it over. His dad is better about him going off on his own now, obviously letting him roam inside the walls freely with his friends. He always has his knife on him just in case anything did go south, and he's pretty good with offing the walkers quickly and efficiently. He remembers when it was just him and his dad after the prison was taken over, and he wandered off by himself and got into trouble with a walker inside of another house, ending up losing a shoe. But at least he found all the pudding, even if he felt sick after eating the entire can.

"Maybe my dad would be cool with it," Carl says, taking handfuls of the bean bag and squishing it, feeling the little balls inside. "But I just don't feel like carrying this."

"Lazy," Ron laughs, looking up at Carl for a moment before going back to looking at the games. He gets tired of kneeling and sits down with his legs crossed instead.

"Any good games?" Carl asks.

"Something called Mirror's Edge." Ron holds it up. The cover is a close up of an Asian woman with a stylish bob, intense eyeliner, and a city that's all white in the background. "I read the back, seems pretty neat. You get to jump across buildings and shit."

"We should try it out later," Carl suggests.

"Of course." Ron nods, holding up another case that reads _Left 4 Dead_. "This one's about zombies, ironically. Seems cool though. We should try it out."

"I guess," Carl chews his bottom lip. They're already in a world where there's monsters walking around them and killing their loved ones. There's death all around them all the time, and it's devastating. To make a game out of it seems insensitive, but of course, when the game was made, they had no idea all of this would happen.

"Picked out a few others, but not much multiplayer stuff. So we'll have to take turns." Ron stands up, gathering up the games in his hands. "Ready to go downstairs?"

"Give me a second. This is just so comfy." Carl takes a few moments before he pushes himself to his feet, sighing.

He follows Ron down the stairs, and finds Enid and Mikey sitting on the couch and talking. Enid is a girl of very few words, but they seem to be in an alright conversation, Enid holding a few books in her lap.

"Hey, you guys find anything?" Mikey asks, turning around to face them. Ron and Carl come up behind the couch, Carl placing his hands on the back of it.

"Carl found a backpack and I found a few new games." He held the games up his his hands.

"Nice! Lemme see." Ron hands the games to Mikey, who starts to read the back of the cases.

"Mostly one player stuff. But it's still games." Ron shrugs.

"That's fine, it's still something to do."

"Yeah," Ron agrees.

"Books," Enid says simply, patting the top one.

"You already have so many, how are you going to read all of them?" Ron chuckles, joking.

"Well, we have a _lot_ of time," Enid says, opening up the top book and just flipping through the pages, loving the way they look falling onto each other. The smell of the book wafts up to her nose, and the smell makes her relax, even slightly happy.

"That's true," Ron shrugs.

"We should start heading back before it gets dark," Mikey gets up, tucking the video games under his arm.

"You're right, let's go," Ron motions for them to follow, and all three of them trail behind the blond out the door. They all walk home talking about random things, mostly about the shit they found. When they reach where they have to split up, the sun is beginning to set.

"See you guys tomorrow," Mikey waves. "Here, Ron, take the games, you have the xbox." He hands the games to Ron.

"Thanks," Ron nods. "See you guys tomorrow!"

They all wave goodbye and go their separate ways. Carl's house is right there so he doesn't have to walk too far.

When he gets inside, Rick is in the kitchen.

"There you are," Rick says when Carl steps into the room. "Have fun with your friends?" It feels so nice to say the word 'friends.' He's so happy Carl has people around that are his age so he doesn't feel so left out and alone anymore. Even if he is very mature for his age, the world around him shaping him and making him mature much faster than usual, he still needs people his age, still needs friends to keep him company.

"Yeah," Carl smiles, leaning against the counter. "Is that dinner?" He points to the two plates with corn, peas, and chicken on them.

"Yeah, just finished before you got here. I'm not the best cook, but it's something." He pushes a plate towards Carl, and hands him a fork and knife. They both sit down at the table and eat together, mostly in silence. They don't really talk too much, but Rick tries to make conversation. There's really not much to talk about, with no news being on, no tv shows airing, no internet. So they have to scramble to find something interesting, something to spend time on and bond over in the end of the world. They don't want to talk about the horrors they've seen, so they have to grasp for something moderately positive which is so difficult to do.

They finish dinner pretty quickly. These days, food is so little and so hard to find that when they have it they're so thankful, but they're so hungry that they eat so fast when they don't mean to.

"I'll be in my room, I'm tired," Carl says after they're finished, rubbing his eyes.

"Alright." Rick nods, putting away the dishes in the sink. "I'll be down here if you need me."

Carl nods back, making his way upstairs and into his room. He closes the door behind him and drops the backpack to the floor, plopping down on his bed and laying down. He closes his eyes, but he doesn't intend to sleep just yet. He just lays there, relaxing.

He almost forgets about what he found earlier, but it all comes back to him suddenly and he blushes.

He sits up, unzipping the backpack and pulling out its contents. First he pulls out the tail.

He just holds it in his hand, feeling the soft fake fur. It's so soft, and he can't stop petting it. It's fur is a mixture of browns, and looks very natural. It's kind of long but also very fluffy. He's still confused about the bit on the end though. He doesn't really know what it's for. He tries to think about it, and a thought comes up that makes him a little uncomfortable.

Tail. Tail is near the butt. That thing...goes in someone's butt.

He winces at the thought, not touching the end of it. He wants to wash it off, so he gets up and peeks out of his room to check if Rick is around. Not seeing him, still downstairs, he jogs to the bathroom and closes the door behind him, locking it.

Carl turns the sink on, making the water a little warm before running the tapered, blunt end attached to the tail under the water; using a little bit of soap on a washcloth to thoroughly clean it. He cleans it over and over until he feels like it's not dirty anymore, until it's shining. Wringing out the washcloth, he hangs it over the side of the bathtub to dry and uses a dry towel hanging on a rack near the toilet to get any remaining water off of the surface. After, he's done, he just stares at it for a few minutes, thinking about his realization.

Why would someone put this in a place like that? He's seen people wear tails on their belts on Halloween (and some people wearing them not on Halloween), but why this? Why not just wear it on a belt? It seems much more comfortable and, well, appropriate. Obviously you couldn't wear something like this out because it's not really socially acceptable to show off your entire ass in public, even if girls wear really short shorts sometimes and Carl's seen a little too much.

He huffs and unlocks the door, checking again if Rick is nearby before jogging back to his room and locking the door. He sits back down on his bed.

Before he looks at the other things, he changes out of his clothes and into his pajamas; a loose t-shirt and sweatpants with bare feet. Now that he feels more comfortable, he sits on his bed and pulls out the other three items from the backpack, laying them in front of them on his bed as he sits with his legs crossed.

He pets the fur on the ears. It's the same brown color as the tail, but the inside of the ears are a light pink with white tufts of fur poking out. They're really cute, he thinks, even if it's a little weird. He places them on his head and leans over to look in the mirror on his dresser across from him, just staring at his reflection.

It's still weird, but at the same time, it still looks kind of cute. Even if the headband fits him perfectly, the ears are still a little big, drooping on his head. He reaches his hand up and pets them again, now sort of relaxed at the feeling of the plush fur under his fingers.

He finally turns away and picks up the pink collar and leash, turning it over in his hands and examining it. It's a little heavy, smelling of leather. It's thick, and whenever he moves it, the big bell on the front of it jingles along with the chain, the little white rhinestones sparkling in the light.

He opens it up, slipping the buckle free. He holds it up to his neck, taking a deep breath before slipping it back into the buckle, getting the little spikes into the holes where he feels most comfortable with. It's tight but not too tight, but it still feels odd on his neck. He's worn necklaces before, but he's never had something like this on. He's seen girls wear little wire chokers, but this is nothing like that. He gets sort of rush from smelling the leather and feeling it tight around his throat, and when he looks in the mirror he's surprised at what he looks like.

It compliments his face and hair nicely, and paired with the fluffy cat ears, he looks even more adorable. Whenever he moves his head the bell keeps jingling, so he tries not to move his head as much just in case Rick was to come upstairs and hear it. The big bell on the front is sort of cartoony, but it's still very cute. The light reflects off of it and it shines.

He finally turns away from the mirror after staring at himself for God knows how long, turning back to the last item.

The lube.

It's only halfway full, obviously having been used a lot. It's in a bottle like a soap dispenser with the little pump at the top. The liquid looks thick but watery at the same time. It lays on its side and the liquid forms to the bottom, but it moves sluggishly. Little bubbles are all in the substance.

He contemplates squirting some on his hand, but he really thinks about it. But he finally goes "fuck it" and turns it upright, only pumping a very little portion into his palm.

He pokes at it with the index finger on this other hand, just pushing the liquid around. It's watery, but still holds itself together. It's like a gel. It's a little cold, and very slippery. He smears it around his palm, just playing with it. It's kind of fun to just mess with, but he doesn't really know where to wipe it when he's done with it.

He doesn't really know exactly what it is used for, since he never really learned about sexual things. When the apocalypse started, he was so young. When he was that young before everything went to shit, his parents didn't really let him use the computer that much, and whenever he used it, they helped him along with it and he mostly played stupid video games on sites that probably gave the computer viruses. He's seen dirty ads on the sides of websites before, but he never clicked on them. He just kind of passed by them, but he still found himself oddly uncomfortable whenever he saw a half naked woman or man. He didn't know it was arousal.

He's touched himself before, of course. He's a teenage boy, of course he's going to masturbate. But he never really put many things together. No one ever talked to him about the birds and the bees. There was never any time to sit him down and talk about it when all they had to focus on was to just _survive_. No one ever thought to explain to him how sex works and how to practice safe sex. He doesn't really know what a condom is. He's so out of the loop. But he knows what an orgasm feels like, but he doesn't know the word. He does know what cum is, because his friends had talked about it when he was young and in school and little kids are so immature and make jokes about everything even if they don't understand what they're saying. He's heard dirty jokes. From kids and from adults. But he never got exactly what they mean. He's so inexperienced.

The liquid starts to warm in his palm from his body heat, and he gets bored of pushing it around his palm, so he grabs a towel on the floor next to the bed and wipes it on their until his hand is as clean is it can be, still feeling a little slick afterwards, leaving a film on his skin.

He doesn't do anything with the tail for now, because he doesn't want to really think about what it's for. So he just stuffs it back in the backpack along with the lube. He takes off the ears and slips off the collar with a little jingle of the bell, and puts them back into the backpack as well and zips it up, placing it on the floor besides his bed. No one really comes into his room other than his friends sometimes, and even then they don't snoop around that bad. They know their boundaries and understand what it's like to have their privacy invaded, so they respect each other and keep to themselves when they're over each other's houses unless allowed to look through something.

By now, the sun is almost all the way down and the darkness is starting to take over. Carl rolls over to close his curtains by the window next to his bed before rolling back over, crawling under the sheets. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, ready to just go to sleep. The way to surviving these days is taking every day one at a time.


	2. Chapter 2

He wakes up the next morning around 7 am, or so the clock on his wall tells him. He hasn't had a clock since the prison, and even then, he was sure it was broken. For all he knows, the clock in his room could be wrong, too, but there's no way to check.

The sunlight hitting the curtains is enough to tell him it's morning, but he leaves them closed, not wanting to be blinded by the sun.

He sits up, yawning and rubbing his sleep addled eyes. His eyelids feel heavy even if he got a full night's sleep, his limbs feeling heavy as well. All the stress from the drama of the apocalypse makes him perpetually exhausted, but he has to stay on his toes to survive. He can't let his guard down, but inside the walls, he's tried to relax a little bit. So far, nothing bad has happened, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of his brain that tells him that something terrible is going to happen. He acknowledges the feeling, but he tries not to dwell on it too much, because so far, Alexandria is a safe place.

He drags himself out of bed and over to his dresser, pulling out a new shirt that's a faded gray, pulling off the one he has on and replacing it, throwing the old one to the side to put away later. He pulls on a new flannel, one that's a navy blue with white and gray stripes, and puts on the jeans he had on yesterday. He changes shirts every day, but with pants, he wears the same pair for a while before changing them. Yeah, it's kinda gross, but he just doesn't care. When his group was wandering for weeks on end with no target, he had to stay in the same clothes for the entire time. He would smell like shit after a few days, but he would get used to the smell. But in Alexandria, he makes a point to take a shower at least every other day and keep his clothes clean. He has to be civilized here, and it's weird.

The last thing he puts on is his holster for his knife, and slips the knife into it. He puts on his boots and ties the laces, grabbing his hat and he's all ready for the day. Taking a moment to breath, he steadies himself before stepping out of his room.

When he goes downstairs Rick is already out of the house, probably patrolling the walls and making sure no one's getting into trouble. Him and Michonne get up early every day, just like real police officers would do, and go to their job. They don't get paid money, because money has no value in the world now. In return, they get shelter and food.

Carl goes into the kitchen and grabs a granola bar, ripping it open and taking a bite as he steps outside into the sunlight, squinting when it hits his eyes. The crisp autumn air makes him shiver slightly, but he's fine with just his flannel.

It's too early and he doesn't want to bother his friends, so he takes a walk around the town. A few people are up, one lady walking her dog. He forgot that people had pets, and he wonders how she kept that dog alive for so long in the end of the world. But part of him wants to pet it, but before he could catch up to her, she's gone.

As usual, there's people up on platforms near the front gate, keeping watch over the walls just in case anyone tries to come inside the town. They hold big guns that has a strap running across their shoulder to keep it grounded, and Carl has to admit, they do look intimidating.

One of the people standing guard is Sasha, and even if she looks alert and ready to attack if need be, Carl can tell that she's exhausted, too. Everyone is exhausted, because being so stressed and on such high alert all the time, 24/7, it takes a toll on your mental and physical health. Sleeping his difficult, eating is difficult- hell, everything is difficult, but everyone has to push through and suck it up, because if they falter for a second, anything can happen that could be fatal.

He sees Michonne and Rick ahead of him, their back turned to him and walking away. He jogs to catch up with them, and when he taps Michonne on the back, he can tell that he startled her, because she just barely jumps.

"Oh, Carl," She laughs. "You scared me."

"Sorry," Carl apologizes. "Didn't mean to."

"It's alright," Michonne waves her hand, dismissing the subject. "Why you up so early?" She asks, hand on her hip.

"Didn't feel like going back to sleep," He explained. "Slept the whole night, though. I was so tired yesterday. I don't know why."

"Aren't we all tired?" She said, and even if she said it in a joking manner he can still hear the exhaustion in her voice. Rick nods, agreeing with her.

"Yeah," Carl shrugs. He's finished his granola bar by now, so he stuffs the wrapper into the pocket of his jeans. "Everything okay? Like, with the walls?" He asks, wanting to make sure nothing is going wrong. Yes, Alexandria is going pretty well so far, but he wants to be ready if any shit goes down.

"Mhm, everything's all together. No walkers got in. A few against the walls, though- we'll have to go out later and take care of them, but it doesn't sound like an unbearable amount," Rick explains, scratching the back of his head. He smoothes back his hair, which he obviously used gel to keep it neat. He's clean shaven, but there's already little hairs growing in even if he just shaved the night before.

"Should I stay in the walls, or should I come help?" Carl asks. Rick knows that Carl can handle more serious things now, knows he can kill walkers with more ease than before. He still feels fear, but he's come a long way from that terrified little boy that tried to kill a walker by himself at the farm, only for it to follow him into the camp and attack Dale. He still feels guilt for that, feels like it's all his fault, but he feels like a lot of things are his fault.

"Stay inside today. Like I said, it's not a lot, so only a few of us will go out to take care of 'em. Don't wanna attract more attention."

"Alright, that's fine." Carl nods in understanding. He wants to help out any way he can, but if he's not needed, he stays back and lets the others do their job. He knows when to step off when told to, doesn't push to do things like he did when he was younger.

"We have to keep watch, but stay safe, okay?" Michonne puts her hand on Carl's shoulder, smiling at him with trusting eyes before walking off with Rick.

Carl is left standing there, but he decides to go over by the lake, sitting against a thin tree and just staring at the reflections and light bouncing off of the water. He wonders if there's fish in the lake, but for some reason, he doubts it. It's a manmade lake, obviously, but the fish in it were probably fed.

He sighs, leaning back against the tree and staring at nothing, listening to the sounds of nature around him. Ever since the world ended, nature took over again. Weeds grew over houses, took over sidewalks and roads. Grass grew taller and taller until it was up to his shoulders, fallen leaves covering front lawns and backyards like a blanket with no one to rake it. Snow fell with no one to shovel it. Rain flooded wherever area it pleased. Wildlife took back their environments. With no more cars and gases being released into the air, the stars became visible, the night sky clear and beautiful. No more sounds of highways and construction, no more noise pollution. Just the sound of _nature_. The apocalypse is terrible and horrifying, and Carl would do anything to go back to regular life, but in a way, the way mother nature reclaimed her land is beautiful.

He sits there for a long time, zoning out and listening to the world around him. As the day goes on, more people emerge from their houses to do errands or just enjoy the cool fall weather.

"Hey."

A voice snaps Carl out of his trance, and he turns around to look up at the source.

"You alright, man?" Ron joins him, sitting down next to the brunette. He rests his elbows on his knees, comfortable.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got up early, is all. Didn't want to go back to sleep, so I took a walk," He explains, yawning. He rubs his eyes again, trying to wake himself up more. He thinks about splashing water on his face, but he doesn't want to risk falling into the lake.

"I slept in a little bit," Ron laughs. "Didn't mean to. I don't know if Mikey is up, but I know Enid is somewhere. Probably over the walls." He sounds annoyed at the last sentence. "Told her not to go over the walls, but she won't listen."

"She can handle herself," Carl says, and he knows that it'll only make Ron angrier, but he wants to tell the truth.

"I-" Ron takes a deep breath through his nose. "I know she lived out there for months, alone, before she came here. I know that. But anything can happen out there. I don't want to lose her."

"I don't either," Carl admits. The last thing he wants is for Enid to get bitten or killed, but she won't stop going over the walls no matter what they say to her. "But we have to trust her. Okay?"

Ron closes his eyes and thinks for a moment, trying to calm himself down. It's still too early to be so angry.

"Yeah," He says quickly. "Yeah, I guess."

A silence passes between them, Ron staring at the gently rippling surface of the lake.

"Want to come over?" Carl breaks the silence. He loves Enid and Mikey, he really does, but today he kind of wants to hang out with Ron one on one. He gathered up the courage to ask him over, waiting for a response.

"Yeah, sure." Ron seems to have calmed down at the offer. "Let's go, it's too sunny out here." Carl nods in agreement, and they get up, making their way to Carl's house.

"My dad's out working," Carl explains as they step inside, Carl closing the door behind them but leaving it unlocked. During the night time, they lock their doors because even if they're in a safe place, you never know who or what could happen. But in the daytime, since they're in and out of the house, they leave it unlocked. "So it's just us." He feels weird saying that last line, but he pushes that weird feeling away, or at least he tries to.

As usual, they go up to Carl's room, and sit on Carl's bed. The bed isn't made, but Rond doesn't care. His room isn't the cleanest, either.

"So, what's up?" Ron asks, leaning against the wall. They both took off their shoes and put them on the carpeted floor.

"Tired, but what else is new?" Carl stretches, feeling his back crack. It makes him groan, cracking his neck as well by using his hands to turn his head.

"True," Ron agrees, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

Carl wants to bring up what he found in the house. He wants to understand what it is, but he knows it's lewd, knows there's something perverse about it. But he really wants to, so before the feeling goes away, he opens his mouth.

"I found something in that house yesterday," He says in one breath, gaze fixed on the bed and avoiding Ron.

"Yeah, what is it?" Ron asks, perking up in interest. "I thought you only found a backpack."

"Well." Carl makes a face. "I lied."

"Then tell me what your little secret is!" Ron grins, sitting up straight and pulling his legs up onto the bed, crossing them like a pretzel.

"Okay." Carl reaches across Ron to grab the backpack on the floor, pulling it up onto the bed. He unzips it slowly, heart racing as he reaches in and his fingers brush against the soft fur of the tail and pair of ears. He doesn't know what to take out first, but he ends up choosing the ears.

He takes out the ears, holding them up to show his friend.

"What are those? Cat ears?" Ron raises an eyebrow, taking the headband from Carl. He feels the soft fur and observes it.

"Yeah, found them in the first bedroom I went into. Think it was the parents' room," He explains, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "There's more."

"Show me!" Ron puts the cat nears next to him on the bed, ready to see what's next.

Carl decides the next thing is the collar, saving the tail for the very last.

He reveals the pink leather and leash and hands it to Ron, the bell ringing loudly as it's passed over. Ron's eyes widen.

"Holy shit. Think this is for a dog or something?" He asks, shaking it to make the bell jingle. "Think it's for a person. That's a little kinky." He laughs, smirking at Carl. The face that Ron makes at him makes his stomach feel like it's filled with butterflies, all lightheaded and airy.

"Y-Yeah," He stutters, not really understanding what kinky means, but he goes along with it anyway. "Uh, then there's this." He pulls out the half full bottle of lube, holding it out for Ron to take. Ron takes it, laughing again.

"Shit, yeah, definitely kinky. Why did you take this?" He asks, voice dropping a little lower. He's insinuating something, but Carl tries to dodge it.

"I don't know- it was just...there," He tries to justify his actions, but Ron gets even more curious. "There's one last thing. But I...don't really know what it is? It's kind of weird. Don't think I'm weird for this."

"No promises," Ron chuckles. "Show me, c'mon." He pushes, nodding towards the backpack.

Carl bites his lip again, worrying the flesh between his teeth. Eyes downcast, he pulls the tail out by the fur and holds his arm out as far as he can so Ron can just take it already. Ron does take it eventually.

"Woah," Ron sounds amazed. "Now _this_ is kinky."

"...What is it?" Carl asks. He feels stupid for not understanding, yet he wants to know what's going on. He watches as Ron pets the fur, holding it at the base.

"You don't know what this is?" Ron raises an eyebrow, looking over at Carl. Carl is red faced and visibly anxious, shaking his head. "Oh my god. Well." Ron scoots a little closer, holding the tail in his lap. His voice dips almost to a whisper, even if they're alone in the house. "Okay, so, see this end here? The metal looking thing? That goes up your ass. And the tail stick out, you know, like a tail. So it looks like you have one. Never really saw one of these things in real life before. It's kinda cute." He chuckles, continuing to pet the fur.

Carl had an inkling of what it was used for before, but now he's starting to understand now that he's getting the facts straight.

"Why would someone do that?" He feels like he sounds so innocent. In this sense, he is pretty innocent, but in every other sense he's corrupted and broken.

"You know, sexual stuff. Sexual roleplay." Ron waves his hands, acting as if Carl knows what he's talking about. Carl just stares at him with wide eyes, and Ron sighs, feeling like he's a teacher. "Sometimes people like to pretend they're something else when they, you know, do the _do_. Like the sexy schoolgirl and teacher thing. But there's stuff like this, where people like to pretend to be a cat."

"Why would they wanna be a cat?" Carl is trying so hard to understand. Ron sighs again.

"I don't know, because cats are adorable? And sly, and clever. Obviously people don't get off to _actual_ cats. That would be messed up." Ron makes a face of disgust.

"So." Carl takes a breath. "People like to pretend to be cats when they're being...sexual… because cats are adorable?"

"I don't know how else to explain it," Ron sighs. "You've never heard about this stuff before? Ever? Not even stuff like bondage?"

Carl's mind is pulling blank. He shakes his head, and Ron lets out a loud laugh.

"You have _so_ much to learn." Ron grins, and Carl gets even more nervous by the look on Ron's face. "Okay, any questions? I'm not an expert, but I try to tell you things."

Carl's mind instantly gets overwhelmed. The look on his face is almost comical.

"Don't think too hard, take it easy," Ron jokes, patting Carl on the knee.

"Okay." Carl puts his hands on his thighs to steady himself. "What's the liquid for?" He points to the bottle of lube.

"Oh, that's lube."

"Lube?"

"It makes things easier to, uh, go in." Ron makes a fist and puts his finger in the hole he made with his thumb and index finger. Carl squints, but he thinks he gets the idea.

"So it doesn't hurt?"

"So it doesn't hurt." Ron nods. "You ever, uh, touch yourself before?"

"Y-Yeah." Carl looks down at his lap. "I have."

"Okay, so you at least know what happens when you, uh, finish. You at least understand that," Ron sighs. Even if this is pretty fun because Carl is so innocent, it's becoming sort of a chore. "I don't know what you're into, guys or girls, but they're pretty different. What are you into?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Uh...both," Carl answers. He had to think about it, because before Ron came along, he thought he was straight. But here he is, sitting in front of his crush, talking about the birds and be bees for the first time in his life. It's embarrassing, but he wants to learn and not be so out of the loop. He feels like Enid and Mikey already know about all of this, leaving just him to be confused and lost.

"Alright, I'll start off with girls first." Ron claps his hands together, getting comfortable and shifting so his lefts wouldn't fall asleep. "Girls obviously have something different then us _down there_." He points to Carl's crotch. "You see it before?"

"I think." Carl stops for a moment. He thinks back to when he was younger. He saw his mother's, because he used to bathe with her. And he's seen dirty ads on the sides of some of the game sites he went on when he was little, and it had a lot of girls with their legs wide open, letting everything show. He remembers what it looks like, and he's relieved that he does because he doesn't think he could sit through a whole awkward explanation. "Yeah, I have."

"Okay, good. Saves us some time." Ron runs his fingers through his hair. "Near the front, there's this little bump called the clit, right? It's like a little version of a dick. When you rub it, the opening gets all...wet. When they're turned on."

Carl is listening closely, and the way that both boys lock eyes makes it even more intense, but Carl finds that he can't look away, in too deep. Ron wets his lips before he continues.

"When she's wet, it makes it easier to put your fingers inside of her. Or your dick. You should still use lube, but if she's _really_ turned on she gets _really_ wet." There's a thick tension in the room, and Carl finds it hard to breathe correctly. "And if you keep rubbing her clit, she'll eventually cum."

"That's...oh." Carl's face is as red as a tomato, but he's so invested in listening to his friend talk. "What about the guys? I mean, I know how guys, uh, cum, but how do they do…?"

Ron gets what he's trying to say.

"Well," Ron starts, breathing through his nose. "It's different, of course. Instead of putting it in a pussy, you put it in his ass."

"That sounds...gross." Carl makes a face. "Sounds uncomfortable."

"Well, yeah, when you think about it, it is kinda gross and uncomfortable." Ron shrugs. "But believe me, it's still good."

"How?" Carl doesn't know how something like that could feel good. He's never fingered himself before, never thought about putting his fingers in such a place.

"You use a lot of lube. I mean a _lot_. If you think you have enough, use more. We're not like girls, we don't get wet. So we need to use that-" He points at the bottle of lube. "- to 'get wet'."

Carl nods, not interrupting the explanation.

"It might sound weird, putting fingers or your dick in someone's ass, but there's a little spot up there that when you press on it, it feels really, really good." Ron's eyes narrow at the last part.

"Did you ever...do that to yourself?" Carl hesitates to ask, but he wants to know.

"Yeah," Ron looks a little embarrassed to admit it. "Yeah, I have. It feels pretty good, but I'm more, uh, dominant."

"Dominant?" Carl asks quietly. He feels stupid again. He knows what dominant means, but not in this stance.

"You know, the one that, uh, puts the dick in the ass. On top," He explains, wetting his lips again. "The one on the bottom, taking it in the ass, is a bottom. Submissive."

Carl gets a chill thinking of Ron topping someone, holding them down and taking advantage of them. He shifts, gulping down a sudden mouthful of saliva.

"So, with all the, uh, lube, you just...put it in?" Carl asks, voice going a little higher pitched at the end of the sentence.

"You shouldn't just go right to the main thing, with both a guy and a girl you gotta have foreplay first. It's important to have foreplay."

"Foreplay?" Again, Carl feels like an idiot.

"Yeah, foreplay," Ron confirms. "Making out, kissing their neck, kissing all over their body. Anything that turns them on, gets them ready for the main attraction."

"Okay." Carl nods. The air is so heavy in the room, and Carl feels so hot in his clothes, beginning to sweat.

"But, yeah, _after_ foreplay, you put it in her. Or him. Whichever." Ron makes a so-so motion with his hands. "You should use a condom, though."

"Condom?"

"Yeah, a condom." Ron puts his hands in his lap. His clothes feel too stuffy as well, explaining all these sexual things to his friend getting him a little excited. But he tries his best not to get hard, using the tail still on his lap to cover his crotch. "It's this rubber thing, like a glove for your dick. If you're with a girl, you can cum while you're inside her and it'll catch everything so she won't get pregnant. If you're with a guy, it's mainly to stop any nasty diseases from spreading, if your partner has anything."

"So it's protection?" Carl is starting to piece everything together, learning more and more about sexual topics that he's never even touched. Ron is no expert, he's just s teenage boy just like Carl, but it's at least something. Carl had to learn about these things at one point in his life, even if it's the end of the world. It's part of growing up and understanding the world around you, how things work.

"Basically, yeah. Protection." Ron nods. "I can, uh, show you how it works some other day? I have a pack in my room that I found in one of the empty houses." He feels weird proposing such a thing, but it already came out of his mouth, so he can't take it back. He can't rewind time, but he wishes he could.

If Carl wasn't getting aroused before, he is now. The thought of seeing Ron in such a way makes his blood run hot and skin tingle.

"Uh, yeah." Carl nods frantically. "That would be, uh, helpful. Yeah, helpful." He looks back and forth from Ron's eyes to the floor, not knowing where to focus on.

"There's also one more thing." Ron chimes in. "You can use your mouth to get people off, too. You can eat a girl out, you know. Lick her clit. Or you can give a guy a blow job. You just kinda, well, put your mouth around him and move your head up and down. Suck on him."

The thought of Ron doing such things to a girl or a guy definitely turns Carl on. Too much. The thought of Ron being on the receiving end turns him on too. Either way, Carl can feel himself getting hard, and he panics. He grabs a pillow from behind him and places it on his lap, so obvious at what he was doing.

"Sorry, sorry-" He apologizes, refusing to look at Ron, absolutely mortified.

"It's okay, man, it's-" Ron gulps. "-It's a lot to take in."

Carl wants to try all of these things. With Ron. He wants to try a blow job, wants to try fingering, wants to try actual sex. Hell, he finds himself wanting to try out the tail, too, since he felt so cute in the collar and ears. He realizes Ron never explained to him what bondage was.

"I have one more question. Then I'll leave you alone for now," Carl spoke suddenly, serious.

"What is it?" Ron perked up.

"Bondage," Carl stated. "What is it?"

Ron laughs, sounding nervous yet excited to explain the concept.

"Well," He leans forward again, towards the brunette. "There's a lot to it, but simply, it's this- submissive people like being tied up. Blindfolded. So they're vulnerable. At another person's mercy. There's pain involved, but there doesn't have to be. There's spanking. With hand or a paddle or a belt. It sounds terrible, but it's all safe. There's a safe word, in case someone wants to stop, they say it, or hum a tune if they can't speak, and they both stop. The collar and leash you have there, it's kind of like bondage. Kinda."

Carl doesn't know exactly what to feel about it, but he kinda likes the idea. The thought of being tied up and blindfolded sents a thrill through his nerves.

"That's...okay," Carl stammers. "Interesting."

"Yeah, interesting." Ron gulps again. "Anything else?"

"T-That's all for now. Thanks for, uh, explaining all of that. I kinda understand now." Even if it's left him aroused, a hot and bothered mess, in front of his closest friend, he's glad to know more. He doesn't feel so out of the loop now. Even if it was such an intense conversation.

The air is still so thick with tension that Carl feels like he's going to choke. They go quiet for a few minutes, just thinking about what just happened, both of them trying to will down their arousal. Carl wants to say something to break the silence, but he can't find any words to say. He wants to ask how Ron knows all of this, if he's ever done anything with a guy or a girl. He knows the boy is dominant, and that thought alone is enough to get Carl thinking so many unclean thoughts.

"Uh, here, might wanna hide these. Don't want your dad to find them," Ron chuckles handing the tail back to Carl. Carl takes it and stuffs it back into the backpack along with the other things, zipping it up and putting it besides the bed again. "I can't believe you found something like that," Ron grins, and Carl feels more at ease at how casual Ron is. He's so comfortable with the other boy, and even if what just happened was intense and kind of awkward, he wants to spend more time with Ron. He wants to spend all his time with Ron.

"Heh, yeah, I can't believe I found it either." Carl smiles, still holding the pillow over his crotch. He's still kinda hard, but he's willing it down. "Didn't expect it. Thought it would just be another sudoku book or something."

"We've found weird stuff in houses, but I think you win. You definitely win."

"Ron, uh-" Carl chews his bottom lip again. "Don't tell Enid or Mikey about what I found, okay?"

"Didn't even plan on telling them," Ron admits. "It's our little secret, okay?" He puts his finger to his lips, winking playfully. Carl's heart flutters at the sly smirk Ron has on his features when he winks.

"Our little secret. Promise?" Carl holds out his pinkie finger.

"Promise." Ron curls his pinkie finger around Carl's, shaking it before pulling their hands away.


	3. Chapter 3

After that day, Ron and Carl feel closer. They don't talk about what happened, at least not yet, going on about their daily lives, hanging out with Enid and Mikey as usual and exploring more houses. Since Carl's group moved into the house that the three used to hang out in alone, they had to find a new one, choosing a tan house with a dark brown roof in the middle of the town. It's about the size of all the other houses; two floors with a decent sized open porch. Two rocking chairs sit on the porch, facing outwards. At one time an old couple would have sat together and watched other people in the community go about their daily lives, but now they're probably dead, eaten, or turned.

They have the whole house to themselves, since it's vacant, so they can hang out wherever they please. They chose the attic when they hung out in Carl's house, but now they chose to gather in the living room.

Like the other houses, there's a fireplace. It looks like it was never really used, even if there's logs placed inside of it, long forgotten. The floor is a light colored wood, a circular rug with a pleasing pattern in pastel colors placed in the middle of the room. They pushed the coffee table to the side so they could have more room, two of them sitting on the couch and two of them taking the floor. Sometimes they all go on the floor, sometimes they all gather on the couch. It depends on the day. They like to switch it up.

Enid brings her comics and Mikey brings his radio. It's almost like everything is back to normal again when they just sit around and talk or read comics while music plays softly in the background. It's almost like they're normal teenagers going about their normal life, just hanging out and enjoying their time together. It's an escape from the outside world, even if it's just for a few hours a day. And it's what they need, especially Carl and Enid, because being surrounded by such a grim environment really wears down a person psychologically.

They're all sitting around in the house they've made their own personal hangout, music playing quietly in the background just loud enough to be relaxing. It's some indie band that Enid has come to like, and at first the other three were iffy about it, but they've come to enjoy the band. Enid's reading, and the other three are holding a conversation. They bounce from one subject to another, all over the place, but it's still so nice to be talking to people so casually.

"Iron Man wouldn't win against Magneto," Mikey argues. "Magneto can control metal! What's Iron Man's power? His suit! His suit? Made out of metal!" He waves his hands as he talks, getting into the subject.

"Whatever, man. Iron Man is still awesome," Ron says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I like Captain America," Carl chimes in.

"He's cute," Enid says, not looking up from her comic.

"I mean, I guess." Carl doesn't want to admit that he does think Cap is pretty cute, because he doesn't know if Mikey and Enid suspect him of being anything other than straight. He's never talked to them about sexuality. Only Ron knows that he's bisexual. He has no idea if the other two would be okay with it.

"Black Widow is hot," Mikey raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she's pretty hot," Ron admits, nodding his head. "I like her with short hair though. Her long hair is pretty, but she's much hotter with short hair."

"We have our preferences, dude." Mikey shrugs, leaning back and bracing himself on his hands.

Carl huddles into the corner of the couch, curling up into a ball, comfortable. His gaze wanders over to Ron, who's lounging on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, one arm draped over the side of the couch casually as he carries on the conversation with Mikey. He looks so laid back, chill. The way the corners of his mouth turn up and a mischievous glint catches his eye when he jokes around is incredibly attractive to the brunette. He wants to crawl in his lap and kiss him, wants to feel Ron's fingers in his hair and his lips on his neck, kissing lower and-

"You alright, man?" Mikey's voice brings Carl back to reality. "You okay?" He chuckles, waving at Carl.

"Yeah. Why?" Carl asks, defensive. He looks in between the three of them rapidly, and even Enid is looking up from her comic with a suspicious look in her eyes.

"You were staring at me, man," Ron laughs, and the sound makes Carl's heart beat faster. "Didn't think you even blinked."

"Sorry, sorry-" Carl laughs awkwardly, rubbing his eyes and blinking to get them wet again. "I just, uh, zoned out for a minute."

"Yeah, you did," Ron says, a joking tone to his voice. But there's something else there, something only Carl can detect, that makes a shiver run up his spine. There's a lazy smirk on Ron's face and the way he barely narrows his eyes as he looks at Carl makes the brunette's breath hitch. He really hopes no one else notices how he's being affected, because he can feel his face heating up.

"You're acting weird." Mikey narrows his eyes at Carl, looking him over. "You sure you alright, man?" He asks again, and the constant question has Carl even more flustered, Ron still giving him that _look_ that makes his heart soar and heat pool in his belly.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine!" He chuckles nervously. "But I think I might go home for a while, I'm a little hungry. I gotta get something to eat." He starts to get up from the couch, pulling on his shoes.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go, too. Mom probably needs help with chores," Ron makes up a bullshit excuse, and he doesn't care if the other two see through it. He just wants to get Carl alone; slipping on his shoes and tying the laces.

Mikey and Enid share a weird look, but Enid shrugs and goes back to her comic.

"We'll probably be here for a while if you guys wanna come back," Mikey explains, taking the opportunity to take a seat on the couch instead of the floor.

"Maybe," Carl says, already heading to the door with Ron close behind. "Maybe."

Like that, Ron and Carl are out the door, and alone.

"Your house," Ron whispers, so close to Carl's ear that it makes the brunette shiver. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's fine," Carl breathes, starting towards his house. It's not too far away, but the silent walk alongside Ron is tense and it feels like forever. But they make it through the door and shut it behind them.

"Dad?" Carl calls out, and waits for a response. There is none. "Probably out with Michonne." He explains, heading up the stairs. Ron is right behind him, so close, and when he shuts the bedroom door behind him he turns around and he's so close to Ron that he can feel the boy's body heat radiating off of him.

They haven't talked about that day in almost two weeks. But it's been on both of their minds every day since then, the sexual tension becoming more and more unbearable as every day passed. That one look from Ron back at the hangout house finally unraveled Carl, and it seemed to have made Ron snap as well.

"Can I kiss you?" Carl suddenly asks, their faces already so close.

"Yeah. Yeah, you can," Ron's breath flows hot against Carl's lips. Both of them lean into each other, and Carl has to rock onto his toes to make himself taller to reach Ron's lips, hands going to grab the collar of Ron's shirt to pull him close. The kiss is close-mouthed at first, and they pull back after a few seconds.

"Your lips are soft." One of Ron's hands come up to cup the side of Carl's face, his thumb pressing against Carl's plump lips. His finger traces along them until it rests on his cheek, feeling the heat of the brunette's skin under his palm.

"Can I kiss you again?" Carl asks again, breathing uneven.

"Hell yeah." Ron smirks and pulls Carl into a kiss that's deeper, open-mouthed, and dirty. Carl's lips moves against Ron's awkwardly, but he tries his best to keep up. Ron is such a good kisser, and Carl's knees feel weak. The way his mouth moves against Carl's has the shorter boy's head spinning, everything around them forgotten as the kiss gets deeper and deeper.

He feels Ron's tongue against his lips, and allows it to enter his, their tongues awkwardly intertwining. Even if the kisses are a little uneven and rushed, it still feels nice, and has Carl grabbing fistfuls of Ron's shirt to keep him close, keeping him from pulling away. Ron's hand still rests on the side of Carl's face, the other resting on the brunette's shoulder, blunt fingernails digging into the fabric of Carl's flannel.

The shorter boy moans into the kiss, and that seems to spur the other boy on. He shuffles backwards towards the bed, guiding Carl along with him. He flips their positions so he can lower Carl onto the bed. He has the brunette on his back, his hat knocked off and forgotten off to the side, leaving his hair a little messy. Ron cards his fingers through the boy's soft hair, the other hand placed palm down on the bed beside Carl's head, bracing him up so he doesn't crush the other boy. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the mood by falling on him.

The hand in Carl's hair traces down the side of Carl's face, the brunette leaning into the touch like a cat being pet as they continue to kiss messily. Ron's fingertips gently brush over Carl's throat, making the boy whimper against his lips. He didn't know how sensitive his neck could be, but just the slightest touch made his blood run hot and pulse quicken.

Ron's hand continues to trace lower and lower, over Carl's clothed chest and stomach, only to reach its destination; placing his palm flush against Carl's crotch. The brunette tenses up for a moment, breathing uneven.

"Is this okay?" Ron breaks the kiss for a moment to whisper against the other boy's lips, hand beginning to slowly rub against the boy, already feeling him getting hard under his palm.

"Y-Yeah," Carl whimpers, nodding his head. He doesn't know where to put his hands, so they end up at his sides on the bed, clawing at the sheets.

He's never had anyone else touch him in this way, never had anyone kiss him. Not only did he just get his first kiss, there's already a hand almost down his pants. He's used to the feeling of his own hand touching him, and it's exciting, but the feeling of Ron's hand, even if his jeans are in the way, is even more exciting, making his whole body feel like fire.

Ron kisses him when he starts to massage Carl through his jeans. The kisses are slower now, but still uneven and sloppy. The brunette is having a hard time focusing on making out when he's being touched so intimately for the first time. He's already hard, straining against his jeans. He can't stop the embarrassing sounds from coming out of his mouth, the fact that he's very vocal already is so hot to Ron, and it just makes him want to touch Carl even more.

When Ron pulls his hands away and gets up, he whines, thinking he's done something wrong.

"W-What's wrong?" Carl stammers, confused.

"Nothing, nothing-" Ron grins. "Just switching positions. Move for a second." Carl does what he's told, and Ron sits at the head of the bed with his legs stretched out. Carl shivers when he can see that Ron is excited to, can see how hard he is through his pants. "Sit on my lap, c'mere." Ron pats his thighs, and Carl swallows before he climbs onto the blond's lap, straddling him. He can feel Ron's hardness against him. Ron's hands rest on his hips, and Carl's hands rest on Ron's shoulders. This position is much more comfortable, and Carl feels so much closer to the other boy. He likes it.

"Comfortable?" Ron asks as he leans forward and places a kiss on Carl's jawline.

"Y-Yeah," Carl breathes, tilting his head to the side so Ron can have more access to his neck. Ron takes the hint, because he starts to places soft kisses all over Carl's neck, hands gently stroking the boy's hips through his shirt. After a few moments, the kisses get a little harsher and Carl can feel Ron's teeth against his skin. He doesn't hate the feeling. It hurts a little bit, but at the same time, it makes his dick twitch in his jeans, lips parting in a lewd moan as he rocks his hips against Ron's lap, relieved at the pleasure it gives him.

Ron's hands go down to the front of Carl's jeans, awkwardly fumbling with his belt buckle and button before he unzips them, one hand going back as an anchor on Carl's hip and the other stays at Carl's crotch, dipping into his boxers and pulling out his arousal. The brunette gasps as he feels Ron's hand wrap around him and start to stroke him, the blond's hands so warm against his flesh.

"R-Ron…" He moans, clinging onto the other boy, wanting to be as close as possible to him. Ron's mouth still works over his throat as he strokes him, and Carl is mortified, because he already feels so close. But both the sensations and the warmth and closeness of Ron is just so much to handle. "Ron...Ron...I'm close…"

Ron doesn't respond, but he starts stroking Carl faster, twisting his wrist when he strokes upwards. That moves makes Carl dizzy, and he can still feel Ron's teeth on his neck, sucking on his skin. It doesn't occur to him that there will be marks there afterwards.

As Carl gets closer, he rocks his hips up into Ron's hand, gripping the boy's shoulders tightly. He continues to whimper and moan, hoping that Rick didn't come back home yet. The last thing he wants is for his dad to catch them like this.

"Fuck, fuck," Carl curses. Before he can warn him, he's coming over Ron's hand, body tensing up as his orgasm rips through him. It washes over him in strong waves, making him feel weak, clinging onto Ron for dear life as he saw stars.

It takes him a minute to come back to reality and realize what just happened. He's leaning against Ron, head resting on the boy's shoulder as he breathes shakily, whole body feeling sensitive to every touch.

Ron pulls his hand away from Carl's cock, and the little touch makes Carl wince; Ron wiping his hand on a towel that's laying on the carpet next to the bed.

"You alright?" Ron chuckles, patting Carl's back with his now clean hand.

"I think you broke me," Carl laughs, pulling his head off of Ron's shoulder. His cheeks are pink, eyes lidded, and lips reddened from kissing.

"That good?" Ron presses a quick kiss to Carl's lips.

"Never really...had anyone touch me like that before," Carl admits, his breathing starting to come back to normal. He still shakes a little bit, the feeling of post-orgasm bliss making him relaxed and kind of tired. He realizes he can still feel Ron's hardness against his ass, and he doesn't want to leave the other boy hanging. "Can I…touch you?" He asks.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Ron says.

"No, No- I want to. I really want to," Carl nods frantically. He scoots back a little bit so that he can get to Ron's pants, taking a deep breath before unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Carl's member is still out of his jeans, but he doesn't care. He just wants to focus on Ron for now.

He pulls Ron out of his underwear and he just looks at him for a moment. He's never seen a dick other than his own, so it's weird to see Ron's. It's not ugly, it's not bad, it's just weird. But he still wraps his hand around it and starts to stroke him slowly. He watches as his hand goes over the hardness, feeling the heat from it on his palm.

"Is this okay?" He asks, gaze flicking up to Ron's face for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron lets out a shaky breath, nodding. "Keep going."

Carl complies, his strokes getting a little faster. He takes a second to spit on his palm before going back to stroking, the spit easing the way. It obviously makes it feel better, because Ron moans, and if he didn't just cum, Carl would be getting hard again.

He gets a passing thought in his mind that he wants to say, but he thinks it over for a moment before he says anything aloud.

"Can I, uh… use my mouth on you?" Carl asks, looking to the side. He bites his lip, waiting for an answer.

"Holy shit, yeah," Ron is enthusiastic, sounding breathless as he agrees. "I'll sit on the side of the bed so you don't have to lay down all weird."

"Okay," Carl nods, sliding off the bed and onto the floor on his knees, Ron taking his spot on the side of the bed, legs spread enough for the shorter boy to fit between them. This position is much easier for Carl to reach Ron's crotch, but it's also much easier to see it. Ron is average size, but he's still a little bigger than Carl. There's a little drop of fluid at the tip, and when Carl wraps his hand around Ron again, he uses the pad of his thumb to wipe that drop away, smearing it around the head. The action makes Ron suck in a breath.

Carl doesn't know exactly what to do, but he leans forward and simply licks the head. He didn't expect how it would taste. It's bitter, but not all unpleasant. Ron obviously keeps himself clean, so it's not disgusting.

He keeps his hand wrapped around the base to keep Ron's dick in place as he licks the tip again, trying to get use to the odd taste. He makes a bold move and wraps his lips around the head, his tongue still working on the skin. Ron lets out a shaky sigh, gaze not leaving the boy in front of him. The picture of Carl on his knees sucking dick is something he'll never forget. Even if he is inexperienced, the air of innocence Carl has to him as he licks and sucks nervously is so fucking hot to Ron for some reason. He wants to make this boy as sexual as he can, corrupt him. Carl obviously enjoys everything so far, but he wants to push him (with his consent, of course) to see how far he'll go, to see what kinks he has and what gets him off.

With his lips still wrapped around the head, he goes lower and lower, and gets about halfway before he gags. He pulls back and swallows.

"S-Sorry, sorry," Carl apologizes.

"It's fine. Just take it easy, okay? Don't push yourself." Ron's hand goes down to run his fingers through Carl's messy hair, soothing him. The action calms the boy down, and he takes a deep breath before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the head of Ron's cock.

He continues to lick at the head, but he wants to try and get more of the other boy in his mouth again. Breathing through his nose, he lowers his head slowly, little by little. Ron's fingers in his hair continues to calm him down, and he gets the boy halfway down his throat. He stills, all of his focus going into not gagging, swallowing around Ron's cock. The feeling of Carl's warm throat working around him makes Ron moan, his grip tightening on Carl's hair.

"Holy shit," Ron groans, not taking his eyes off of the image in front of him. Carl flicks his gaze up to Ron's, locking eyes. With their gazes connected, Carl brings his head back, but not far enough to pull back completely, his lips still wrapped around the head of Ron's dick, before going back down again, getting a little more than halfway this time. Ron can tell that Carl's trying his hardest not to gag, but he knows the boy can take it.

Carl pulls back for a moment.

"Am I doing okay?" He takes a few deep breathes. His lips are red from kissing, his cheeks pink and pupils blown out with lust.

"Yeah, yeah, you're doing great," Ron chuckles, finding Carl's being eager to please adorable. He can't get over how submissive, how _good_ the boy looks on his knees. He feels honored to be the first one to see him like this.

With that validation, Carl goes back to the task at hand. He thinks for a moment before using his hand gripping Ron's dick at the base and points it at a different angle, more upward, so that he can plant his tongue at the bottom and slowly lick to the top, all while keeping eye contact with Ron. Ron shudders, so Carl repeats what he just did, only making Ron whimper.

Carl goes back to wrapping his lips around the head and swirling his tongue over the tip, taking his time with bobbing his head up and forth; making sure to keep his tongue moving with different strokes since Ron seems to enjoy it.

"C-Carl," Ron stutters, breathing coming quicker. "I'm gonna cum."

Carl moans around Ron's length in response, and the vibration only pushes Ron closer to climax. He doesn't stop what he's doing, continuing to bob his head and lick at the hardened flesh, giving it his all.

"Carl, Carl-!" Ron tugs Carl back by his hair just in time for him to cum. He cums in thick white ropes across Carl's face, getting in his hair, on his cheek, and almost in his eye. It's the best orgasm he's ever had, and it takes him a few moments to gather himself together again.

"S-Sorry," Ron chuckles breathlessly, taking a mental picture of Carl's face covered in cum. He has such a filthy, debauched expression; eyes lidded and cheeks stained pink, reddened lips parted as he tries to get his breathing under control, and hair sticking out in every direction with cum dripping from his long bangs.

"I-It's fine," Carl grins, a stupid, spaced out grin. He looks satisfied with himself, almost proud. "Did I do alright?"

"Obviously," Ron laughs. "Look at your face. We should get you cleaned up."

Carl pulls his hand back from Ron's dick and reaches for a towel on the floor that's been used, bringing it up to his face and trying his best to wipe off the cum.

"Here, lemme help." Ron takes the towel from him and carefully wipes down Carl's face, doing his best to get all of it out of Carl's hair. It's difficult to, because it sticks to the strands and makes the wet hair clump together. He'll have to wash it, because even after a few minutes of trying to get it all out with the towel, it still looks shiny and wet. "That's a little better." He drops the towel back to the side. "C'mere." He tugs on the collar of Carl's shirt.

"Thanks." Carl smiles, and he takes the hint and climbs up into Ron's lap. Ron presses a kiss against Carl's lips, and Carl kisses back. It's a slow, tired kiss, and Ron can taste himself on Carl's tongue, but he doesn't care. He just wants Carl close to him.

By this point, the sun is beginning to set. Outside the window and beyond the walls of the town, the sunset casts hues of pink and orange over the horizon. People are starting to go back into their homes for the night, and those watching the gate switch their shifts. That means Rick is coming home for the night, because downstairs, he comes through the front door. Both of the boys don't hear it, too lost in the moment and basking in the afterglow of their bliss.

"Carl?"

A knock on the door makes both of the boys jump and pull away from each other, Carl scrambling off of Ron and beside him on the bed, both of them pulling their pants up and zipping them up.

"I'm here!" Carl calls out, trying not to sound too panicked.

The door opens, revealing Rick in his uniform that Deanna had given him and Michonne. He looks over the two boys for a moment, saying nothing. "Where's Enid and Mikey? They busy or something? Hi, Ron."

Ron awkwardly waves at Rick in response.

"Yeah, they're busy," Carl lies, shaking his head. He hopes that Rick can't tell what just happened, hopes that he can't sense it in the air. "So, uh, me and Ron just decided to hang out here. We lost track of time." He spares a glance at Ron, who kind of smirks back at him.

"That's fine. But, Ron, your mother probably wants you home before it gets too dark," Rick suggests.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ron sounds a little annoyed, but he gets up and brushes himself off. "I should go back now, then. See you tomorrow, Carl?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Carl smiles, doing a little wave. Ron winks back at him before he steps out along with Rick, the door closing behind them, leaving Carl alone.

Now that he's alone, what just happened hits him. His cheeks heat up all over again and his skin tingles, heart racing. He brings a hand up to his face and touches where his hair is sticky. The cum they couldn't wipe out of his hair is cooling, and even if it feels gross, the memory from minutes before of Ron cumming on his face makes his blood run hot and he can already feel himself getting hard again.

He wills himself to get up and strip himself of his clothing, leaving everything strewn over the carpet; grabbing a clean towel that's hanging on the back of the chair near his desk and wrapping it around his waist.

Thankfully, Rick is downstairs or out of the house when he exits his room, and he can easily make his way to the bathroom down the hall with no questions asked; locking the door behind him when he gets there.

Carl flicks on the light and the bright lighting is almost sterile, a blaring white that makes his eyes burn. Looking in the mirror, he can see all of his flaws, every single pore and freckle, due to the light.

And he can see the marks on his neck.

Scattered to his collarbones up to his jaw, there's patches of what looks like bruises. He runs his fingers over the areas and cringes a little bit. They don't hurt terribly, but it was surprising for him to see such a thing on himself. But at the same time, he kind of likes it, and if the thought of Ron cumming on his face didn't excite him again before, the thought of Ron marking him for everyone else to see makes him harder; gripping the edge of the towel on his waist with white knuckles.

With a frustrated sigh, he rips off the towel and places it on the toilet next the shower, starting up the shower and making sure the water is the right temperature before stepping inside. The warm water running over his skin calms him, and he closes his eyes for a moment to just relax. But even then, his erection won't go down.

He bites his lip in frustration and gives in, reaching down and wrapping a hand around himself. He braces the other hand on the shower wall to brace himself, making sure his feet are firmly on the floor so he doesn't slip and fall.

Even if it hasn't even been an hour since everything happened, Carl wants more. He wants to feel Ron's lips on his neck again, wants to feel Ron's hand on him, Ron's _mouth_. The thought of the sandy haired boy sucking him off while looking up at him with those honey brown eyes makes Carl bite his lip to keep back a moan. He wonders what fingering feels like, wants to try it to himself, but mainly wants Ron to do it to him. He obviously understands more, knows more, has experienced more. And Carl's willing and patient to learn and experience every single thing Ron has to offer.

He hasn't even fingered himself or has gotten fingered yet and he wants to get fucked by Ron. He wants Ron to hold him down and fuck him until he's a screaming, shaking mess. With the collar on. And maybe the ears. Ron, yanking the leash back while he fucks Carl on his hands and knees, back arched with the brunette gasping for air between desperate, shaky moans.

That's the thought that does it, and Carl struggles to stay standing, knees weak, as he cums; the spray of the shower washing everything away down the drain like nothing ever happened. This time, he can't hold back a moan; blunt nails digging into the shower tile.

His skin feels too hot as he comes back to reality, and with shaky hands, he runs his fingers through his hair to comb it back out of his face. Breathing still short, he quickly washes and conditions his hair, already feeling cleaner. Next, he scrubs his body, and after he's done he just stands under the cooling water, the water calming him down again.

He finally decides to step out of the shower, patting himself as dry as he can before wrapping the towel around his waist like he had it before.

He goes to reach for the doorknob to leave when he hears his father calling him and footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Carl? Carl, you upstairs?" There's a hint of panic in Rick's voice, but it's nothing that Carl isn't used to. In this world, anything can happen, and Rick doesn't like having Carl away from him for too long in fear of something terrible happening to his son.

"Yeah, in the bathroom!" Carl shouts back, but he can hear the footsteps come closer to the bathroom door and stop right in front.

"Are you okay?" Rick's voice is muffled by the door between them, so Carl opens it just enough to peek through the space, only half of his face showing, his neck and shoulders hidden.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had to shower," Carl answers truthfully. He can see the worry in Rick's eyes melt away a little bit, but it never really does go away.

"Alright. Just...making sure you're doing okay." Rick sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He looks like he's in need of a shower himself. He looks absolutely exhausted, visible bags under his eyes. But no one really sleeps normally anymore, so everyone always looks exhausted, even if living in Alexandria gives them access to showers, washing machines, and an array of clothing rather than wearing the same filthy shirt and pants for God knows how long.

"I'm fine, Dad." Carl doesn't mean to sound annoyed, but there's an edge to his voice. _I can handle myself_ , he thinks, but he doesn't dare say it aloud to start an argument.

"Okay, okay." Rick seems to catch the underlying tone to Carl's voice and backs off. He knows that Carl can handle himself for the most part. He's seen the kid take town walkers and even on rare occasions, if he really had to, other humans. He remembers the incident with Shane. That's the first time he knew Carl was learning to defend himself.

"Our group is all getting together for dinner downstairs soon. If you want to stay in your room, I'll call you down when everyone's here. Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. I'm just going to… relax for a little while." Carl takes a deep breath. Instantly, he starts to think about how he's going to cover up his neck without being too suspicious. But he'll have to find a way, or else they'll think something terrible happened to him and everyone will get riled up. And he doesn't want that to happen. Too many times they've come across conflicts in their traveling aimlessly, and when someone else hurts anyone from the group, the rest are out for blood and revenge. And he doesn't want to send out the wrong message and get everyone bloodthirsty.

"Alright." Rick nods and flashes a quick smile, but Carl can still tell he's concerned. He's always concerned.

The Sheriff turns around and makes his way back downstairs, leaving Carl alone again.

When the footsteps fade out and become distant, Carl finally emerges from the bathroom only to go directly to his room and close the door behind him.

He locks the door just in case, wanting privacy, and goes over to sit on his bed. He pulls the towel off his waist, unafraid to be completely naked since he's behind a locked door and the curtains are drawn closed. The setting sun still casts dim light into the room, but he decides to flip on the lamp on his dresser anyway.

He brings the towel up to mess with his hair again, wanting to try and dry it even more. When he pulls it off his head, his hair is a mess and it's hanging a little bit in his eyes. Looking up, he sees himself in the mirror that's part of his dresser, swiping his bangs to the side so he can see normally. _Maybe it's time for a trim_ , he thinks to himself. He would never get a short haircut, though. He feels better with shaggy hair for some reason, he doesn't know why, but he just feels more comfortable looking this way.

Again he finds himself looking at the bruises on his neck, and he feels his face get hot. He really has to find a way to cover these.

 _There has to a scarf or something in here_ , he thinks, draping the towel on the back of the chair near the desk in the corner of the room so it dries. He goes to the closet first, flipping through the clothing on hangers before searching on the top shelf, and then on the floor near the forgotten shoes. In the hanging clothes, he finds a few sweaters. Most of them are regular, with no high collar, but he does find one turtleneck. It's a baby blue color, made for a more feminine build, but he's skinny. It could fit him. So he puts it off to the side, and checks through the closet again. He finds a white scarf as well. It's an off-white, obviously having been worn many times throughout the years, but it'll work. He makes a mental note to check the closet near the front door downstairs later, because there might be some winter stuff tucked away in the back that he can use.

Finally, he decides to get dressed, skin dry. His hair is still damp, but that's fine. Since the sun is going down, he's sure that he'll be in the house for the rest of the night. Rick likes everyone in the group to stay inside past a certain time, even the adults. Even if they did finally split up into their own houses in pairs or threes, he likes for them to be inside and safe. The only exception is if someone has to go out on watch.

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt. Preferring not to be barefoot, he puts on a pair of socks.

 _Would it be weird to wear a scarf inside? Or the turtleneck? Maybe_ , he thinks, chewing on his bottom lip. He settles on picking a hoodie that's a little too big for him from the closet. It doesn't cover his neck completely, but with the hood up it kind of hides it. It'll have to do. Wearing the other things he found he feels would be out of place. The hoodie wouldn't be too out of the ordinary since it's starting to get chilly out.

He sits back on his bed and simply lays there, waiting for his father to call him down for dinner.

A knock on the door jerks Carl awake, and he runs over to the door with wobbly legs and unlocks it, opening it just enough to peek through.

"Dinner's ready. Everyone's downstairs," Rick explains.

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute." Carl nods, and Rick takes the hint to leave, going back downstairs to everyone else.

Carl takes a minute to prepare himself to be in front of everyone. Usually he doesn't care, he's fine with it, he feels safe with them. He still feels safe with them, but he really doesn't want anyone to see his neck. The people of his group aren't stupid, and they aren't oblivious either. They're good at sensing small details and observing a situation. But if he didn't go downstairs, it would even be more suspicious, so he really has no choice. He'd rather not be grilled with questions.

He leaves his room and slowly goes down the stairs, and he's not surprised to see everyone spread around the living room and kitchen. The house isn't huge, so it seems a little packed, but again, he feels safe around them and knows all of them, so he doesn't feel in danger.

"There he is." Michonne greets him with a warm smile. She's had her hardships, but whenever she's around Carl, she's a ray of sunshine. He feels comfortable around her, and even now that he sees her as a mother figure, he still thinks of her as a good friend.

"Hey," Carl smiles back, fidgeting with the cords on the hoodie, trying not to be obvious that he's tightening them little by little.

"Eat something." Michonne nods in the direction of the kitchen. "Don't want you to be starving." She pats him on the shoulder before going off to join everyone in the living room.

Dinner is simple; noodles and sauce. It's not anything special, but to people that have survived on scraps for the longest time, it's special. It's a real meal. And all of them are thankful for that.

He grabs a plate and takes a good amount of the noodles, pouring sauce over them and grabbing a fork before going off to the living room himself. He takes a spot in the corner between Daryl and Michonne on the floor, sitting with his legs crossed and the plate balanced in his lap.

"How you feeling today, honey?" Michonne asks, that sweet smile still on her face.

"I'm alright," Carl responds, swallowing a mouthful of spaghetti.

"Have you been hanging out with your friends?" She asks, idly twirling her food on her fork. "They seem nice. They've been treating you well?"

Carl is overwhelmed by suddenly being bombarded with questions, but he knows it's just because she cares about him and wants to make sure he's doing okay, just like Rick does. Now that Rick and her are together, he has two people constantly worrying about him. It's annoying, yet he understands why they have concerns.

"Yeah, they're nice." Carl smiles, looking down at the carpet. "They have a bunch of comic books they let me borrow. Gotta give them back, though, 'cause they're Enid's. But it's nice to talk about normal things. Weird, but nice."

Michonne makes a sound of agreement, pausing to take a bite of her food.

"Yeah, I'm not used to all this either, yet." She has a sad edge to her voice, but she tries not to let it show through too much. "But I'm glad you have friends. That girl is pretty."

Carl blushes, poking at his food. He does thinks she's pretty. Even if there's limited care for hair these days, her hair is still clean and shiny. Her eyes are a pleasing green that reminds him of the calm of the forest on a sunny day. She has kissable lips, too. He can't deny that he likes her a little bit as well, alongside the thing he has going on with Ron. But he's not sure if they'd be open to polyamory, it would get too complicated. So right now, he's happy with this thing he has going on with Ron.

"Yeah, she is," Carl agrees, sparing a quick glance up at Michonne.

"Are you interested in her? It's alright if you're not, just curious." She's pushing the topic, but at the same time, she's not forceful about it. Carl is a tad uncomfortable, anyway.

"A little bit," Carl admits, because he can't deny she's attractive as well. Rick sits not too far away from him, holding Judith and feeding her slowly, and even if it's not obvious, Carl can tell he's listening in on the conversation. But it doesn't really bother the boy all that much. He's used to his father watching over him. No one has noticed the hickies on his neck yet, or if they did, no one has said anything.

"That's cute," Michonne chuckles. It's mostly quiet, but there are a few other conversations going on between the others. They're all kind of a quiet group. But that doesn't mean they aren't friends, they still want to talk to each other. It does distract them from the world around them, if they try to focus on another subject other than the struggles around them.

Carl can feel eyes on him, but he can't pinpoint who it is. And he doesn't want to whip around and look at every single person to see who it is. But after a few moments, he can feel the presence beside him, and when he subtly turns his gaze towards Daryl, the man quickly looks in the other direction.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Carl curses to himself internally, heart beating faster. Out of all the people to notice, it was Daryl. But he'd rather it be Daryl than his father, which would bombard him with questions until he finally told the truth.

The rest of dinner goes by, but even then, everyone sticks around for a while. They all feel safe together. They even engage in a group discussion about how the community is running and what they think about everything, but Carl decided he'd rather be a spectator and listen in, having nothing to pitch in for himself.

But as always, things have to come to an end, and when people start filing out, the sun is gone and darkness has taken over the town. Michonne and Rick stay in the house since they live together now.

Carl catches Daryl's eyes when he leaves, but neither of them say anything. Even so, Carl can tell Daryl understands what happened, even if he doesn't really know exactly who it happened with yet.

Everyone is gone, leaving only the four of them. Michonne cradles Judith and rocks her to sleep. It's late, and it's past her bedtime.

"Should have put her to bed earlier," Michonne says, but mostly to herself. "I'll take care of her." With that, she disappears upstairs with Judith, leaving Carl and Rick alone.

"You alright?" Rick asks, and Carl is tired of hearing that question. But he doesn't lash out, trying not to be a brat today.

"I'm fine, Dad," Carl answers sternly, hands stuffed into the pocket of the hoodie. He slumps, hoping that the shadows from the hood and his hair hide his neck more. But Rick gives him a look that makes Carl uncomfortable, makes him curl into himself even more. The hoodie doesn't hide everything, obviously. But the lights in the house are dim, so that helps with casting more shadows.

Rick sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

"I'm going to bed. Don't go out, stay in the house- you know." Rick repeats that almost every day like Carl doesn't understand. But he does, and it just makes him irritated and feel like a little kid again.

"Yeah, yeah." Carl shakes his head. He turns around and starts upstairs. "Night, Dad."

"Night," Rick responds, but Carl is already up the stairs.

He goes into his room, locking the door. He usually doesn't lock his door, but with the _things_ he found, he doesn't want to risk Rick coming in and finding them. It's highly unlikely, but Carl is paranoid nonetheless.

The hoodie is too hot for sleeping under the covers, so he pulls it off and throws it to the side before crawling into bed, curling up under the covers and sighing.

He doesn't know what tomorrow will bring, but for once, he's actually excited to wake up. Just thinking about spending more time with Ron makes his heart race and blood run hot. But he tries to calm himself down.

It takes him an hour to fall asleep. He usually doesn't dream, but he does tonight.


End file.
